Between Master and Slave
by Chocolate-Obsessed
Summary: AU Seto is the son of a wealthy lord. Yami is a pleasure slave with a dark past. What happens when the two are brought together by unusual circumstances? Can love develop despite it all? SetoxYami
1. Chapter 1

Between Master and Slave

A/N: My first YGO fic! I'm excited but a little scared 'cause I've read so many great Seto/Yami fics and I don't think I can even compare to the others. But it's my first and I'm proud. I just want people to know that it took me an extremely long time to write it, I don't usually write seven page long chapters, I hope this isn't a trend...

I've decided not to name Seto's father because I don't want people to sympathize with him, though who would? When characters get names, they get a personality _and_ a soul, and I didn't want "Seto's father" to have a soul.

Set around the 1700's, I don't really know, before modern technology, before electricity, during the time of kings and queens, etc. Just let your imagination run wild.

Warnings: None yet, there's no bad language, no yaoi, nothing really, yet. There will be Seto/Yami later, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, just twisting these characters around so they fit my story.

Chapter One:

"Young Master...?"

Seto felt a gentle nudge on his shoulder and opened his eyes. He wasn't actually asleep, but it didn't matter, he may as well have been. Listening to his tutor was about as interesting as pulling his own fingernails out, and he didn't think that desire was ever going to strike him. He sat up against the back of his chair and stared at the tutor.

"I understand that you don't want to do this, but your father made it perfectly clear that I am to teach you the finer points of warfare." The tutor stood with one hand laying on the desk and the other wrapped around a thin book; he looked the perfect image in an oil painting.

Seto grinned. "You know what?" He asked, waiting for an inquisitive look from the teacher. "I don't want to right now, we'll continue this later." And without waiting for the inevitable protest, Seto walked out of the study.

The large stone hallway was cooler than the study. Seto wrapped his long, black velvet coat tighter around his body, and scowled at the weather, like it would help. He hated when the castle got cold, and it wasn't even winter yet. The green trees outside the windows were starting to change color. He resented winter with his entire being. Not only was it damnably cold, but something bad had happened over the winter, three years ago. He shivered when he remembered, and shook the memory away. He thought it a waste of time to reflect on the past.

Seto reached his bedroom and was relieved to find that the fireplace had been lit. He took his coat off and threw it on the dresser next to the entrance. He found himself drawn to the warmth of the fire, and fell down on the couch sitting in front of the fireplace. For some reason he was tired, or maybe just bored. He had nothing to do, for he had done everything already. He outgrown hunting with his father, now he could barely stand being around the man for more than five minutes. He had read all the books in his library, some of them more than once. He didn't like writing. He had already explored the great expanse of their property on his horse. But most of all, he didn't like being alone.

Seto stared at the high stone ceiling above him. Time seemed to be going faster because he could literally see the light diminish into the darkness of night, the fire burning itself out, and by the end of twilight, he was in complete darkness. Still he didn't move. He was bored of his life and wanted something new, a new life. Then an idea hit him; he would simply go and spend his nights in the village tavern. Surely alcohol could give him a more interesting life, and no one would deny him because he was the son of a very powerful man.

And that's how it began. He would go almost every night, and for the first couple of nights he would get drunk and then return home. But after that, he found that he could easily seduce anyone in the tavern, and took to staying the night there. He started out seducing women, but quickly found that too easy, the men gave up more of a challenge. In the end, he would always win though, no one could resist.

This had been going on for about a month before he got caught. He was sitting at one of the various secluded tables, starting to talk to someone who had caught his eye, when he was suddenly pulled by the collar of his vest to the floor. His drink went flying and landed with the harsh sound of glass breaking, while he landed roughly on his back, his gaze directed up at a very angry face. Immediately, Seto's facial features hardened, and he started to get up, only to be forced down again. He landed on his stomach and gasped for breath, his eyes widening as he felt like his lungs were going to collapse in on themselves. He breathed deeply and tried again to stand up, this time fulfilling his intention. He glared up at his father, who was now more red in the face than he had been when Seto first saw him.

They were both silent, the air between them crackling with electricity.

"What _are_ you doing!" His father suddenly screamed. The musicians stopped playing and everyone in the room turned around to stare.

"I was enjoying myself," Seto replied coolly, but with venom lacing his every word.

"You weren't enjoying yourself, you were embarrassing yourself, and me!" Seto's father lunged at him, grabbing at the lapels of his vest and dragging him out of the tavern. Seto barely had enough time to grab his coat off of the hanger and put it on before he was thrown into the dirt outside. He landed in a shallow puddle of mud in front of his horse, thoroughly soaking his coat in mud.

"Get on, we're going home," the old man ordered. He himself mounted his chestnut Bay and started to trot away, when Seto noticed that his own black Friesian was tied to the other horse. He jogged a little beside his horse before he got an opportunity to get his foot hooked in the stirrup and swing his other leg over. He peeled his dirty coat off of his body and draped it over the horn of the saddle, looking at it in disgust.

They rode to the castle in silence. Seto didn't care, he didn't want to talk, but he got the feeling that his father was just buying time before he would blow up. Seto needed this time to gather his own thoughts, to think rationally so that he could present a valid case against his father. Not that rational talking had ever worked before, they usually ended up screaming at each other so loud that the servants had to cover their ears, and the two men would end the argument doubled over, breathing heavy and raspy, their throats in shreds.

Seto looked out at the scenery, he didn't feel like fighting tonight, it was late and all he wanted to do was go to sleep. But if it was unavoidable, then he would make sure he won. He felt invigorated with this new resolve, and right on time too, because they had passed through the castle gates without him knowing and were making their way to the main doors.

Upon reaching the entrance, two servants came to take their horses away, and Seto's father motioned for his son to follow him. They walked quickly up the stairs and through the two huge wooden doors lined with thick black iron bars. Seto always hated the castle, it seemed like it was built to keep people out, or keep them in. He always felt trapped in there, and even going out on the grounds wasn't enough free space. He was trapped by the idea of being someone important, someone that struck fear in the hearts of regular men. When he was out at the tavern, drinking and playing with the villagers, he had gotten a peek of what it must be like to not have a huge burden of a reputation on his shoulders. But now that he had gotten caught, he would never be allowed outside the grounds again without a guard. His father would probably set guards outside of his room and below the balcony, just to make sure that he didn't run away.

They walked into the large sitting room to the right of the main entryway, and Seto sat lazily down on one of the plush couches, and just to annoy his father he placed one of his heavy, mud-encrusted boots on the coffee table.

"Get your boots off the table," his father said automatically. Seto responded by slowly bringing his foot back down, all the while staring at his father. He could see the calculating look on his father's face, and knew he was in big trouble this time. He had never gotten in this much trouble before, and usually it was something that could be fixed. It would be hard to fix this one, if Seto even wanted to.

"_What_ were you thinking?" Seto's father turned around suddenly and slammed his open palms against the table. Seto could now tell the magnitude of what he had "done" by his father's opening statement. Never before when Seto was in trouble had the argument started out slow, almost rationally. "Going out and fraternizing with common people..." He almost sounded as if he was talking to himself, ignoring Seto completely.

"I was just having a little fun," Seto replied. He didn't really know how he was going to explain the extreme feeling of loneliness to his father, or even if he could, if the older man would understand and sympathize. Seto doubted it, his father was only capable of feeling things that directly affected his well-being. Seto sighed quietly, his father still wondering to himself.

"'_A little fun'_? You have ruined our image in the eyes of these people, you have made us laughing stocks of the town. No longer do I have the same command of people like I did only weeks ago. They don't _respect _me anymore." Seto grunted at the last sentence, of course his father only thought of himself, what about if they respected Seto? They probably didn't, Seto wasn't a figure of authority anymore, he wasn't mysterious, he was now someone that the people knew.

"What happens when they start to find me too weak to control even my own son? What happens when they don't fear me anymore?" Seto didn't answer, he knew his father wasn't done, that he would answer his own question. "They will rebel, they'll put someone new in this position, someone that they feel can do the job. And I will not let that happen! This is my right, I can still rule, and if that means having a tighter grip on you, then so be it."

"You can't control me," Seto said defiantly. "No matter what you do, I will find a way to do what I want."

"Why can't you 'enjoy yourself' with the slaves?" It sounded like he was almost pleading, but then again it seemed more like an order.

"They're _yours_. I would never touch something that was _yours_."

Seto's father sighed heavily. "Then you'll just have to contain your urges. And until then, you are no longer allowed out of the castle."

Seto rolled his eyes at his father's empty threat. There was nothing the older man could do to keep Seto from doing something that he wanted to do.

"Leave. Before I lose control."

His father seemed to be done with his tirade, so Seto stood up and walked out of the room without another word. His fatigue was coming back; the adrenaline from the unknown was wearing off. He meandered through the halls looking at stones on the walls and not really trying to find his room. All he wanted to do was stay in the state he was in, floating in between this world and the world of dreams, but his body was quickly yielding to sleep. He found his room and stumbled into his bed, closing his eyes and falling asleep instantly.

Seto woke up at dawn. It didn't matter if he went to sleep in the early morning, he always woke up at dawn. It seemed to him that he couldn't sleep if there was a ray of light in his room. He wasn't complaining, though, he always felt refreshed after his small amounts of sleep. Maybe that was one of the reasons his father didn't know what he was doing, because he was never sluggish in the day.

For a second, he didn't know where he was. He was so used to waking up in a cheap bed rather than a soft, huge bed and it didn't feel right. He opened his eyes and upon recognizing his own room, the images from the night before flooded his mind. He scowled and turned over on his side, noticing that he was still in his clothes from the night before. Sitting up, Seto saw that the covers on his bed would need to be changed. Seto edged to the side of the bed and kicked his boots off. He would need to take a long bath to get rid of the layer of mud that clung to his body.

Seto stood up and walked over to the door that lead to the hall. He opened it and looked out, wanting to catch one of the servants so they could clean his room while he bathed. There was never a shortage of servants wandering around the halls, so Seto only had to wait a couple of minutes before one passed his room.

The servant looked at him expectantly. "Would you like something, sir?" She asked.

"Get someone to clean my room up while I bathe," he ordered.

"Of course, would you like someone to wash you?"

"No." Seto didn't like it when the servants washed him, they never did it right. They would miss spots, or they wouldn't scrub hard enough, or they would make the water too hot or too cold, the list went on and on. Seto liked things to be just so, which meant he got to do a lot of things himself.

Seto turned back inside and made his way to his private bathroom, taking his clothes off in the process. He threw them on the ground, not caring where they went because it wasn't his problem.

The bathroom was extravagant. The one aspect of his father's personality that Seto admitted to have himself was an intense taste for the luxurious. His family was richer than most in the same status, so they had more room to buy the things they wanted. Seto's bathroom was made entirely of white and gray marble, with a deep, sunken tub in the middle. It was always full of clean water because they had a spring that supplied the castle, and Seto had requested that a small finger of it be routed to his bathroom so he would never have to wait for the servants to fill the tub up. The only thing he had to wait for was heating the water up. They had this ingenious system where a large fire was kept going constantly underneath the tub, so all Seto had to do to heat the water faster was turn a knob and the fire would get bigger.

Seto removed the rest of his clothing and threw it outside the door while he waited for the water to heat up. There were five windows lining the top of the room that let light and air in, but Seto never opened them, even when the room was full of steam. He didn't like the air to be cool and the water warm; it was shocking to his body when he got out of the tub, but he had them put in because he liked to gauge how long he was in there. Sometimes it was strategic, if he wanted to avoid someone he would go and read in his bathroom, watching the sun move across the sky and waiting for dinner.

The room was starting to fill with steam, and Seto turned the knob down a little bit so he wouldn't boil. He bent down and tested the heat with his hand, then slid in and let the water wash away the events of last night. He proceeded to wash his hair and body, and then just sunk beneath the water level and held his breath. He was weightless, suspended in the water and time seemed to stop. He could hear nothing but the water passing by his ears and he could see nothing.

When he couldn't hold his breath any longer, he surfaced and wiped the water from his eyes. He was starting to get wrinkly, and he hated that feeling, so he decided that it was time to get out. He lifted himself out of the tub and took one of the white towels that was hanging on the wall. He wrapped it around his waist as he cracked the door to his room open. It was perfectly clean, and there was no one still in it, so he opened the door completely and went over to his bed. For some reason, he was feeling tired again, and without drying himself off, he climbed underneath the covers and went to sleep.

He woke up later in the day, when the sun was high in the sky. Its rays were warming Seto completely, which would have been a nice thing if he wasn't already under his down comforter. Little droplets of sweat were just starting to form on his brow when he decided to get up. Seto sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, shivering as he remembered that he had gone straight from the bath to his bed. He sighed and grabbed the forgotten towel, draping it over his shoulder and walking to his closet. The closet was actually a small room with multiple shelves of clothing, most of which were black or blue. The shirts and pants were separated on either side of the room, then further divided into the type of fabric. Seto didn't like the tight knee length pants that were in fashion, so whenever he went to the tailor he asked for a longer length, which always earned him strange looks.

Seto ran his fingertips along the folded edges of his pants, and when he found one that suited his mood he pulled it out and unfolded it. The pants were made of a high quality cotton that was dyed black. He nodded his head and put the pants on while turning around to search for a shirt.

He paused in his search to listen for a noise that he thought he heard back in his bedroom. It sounded like someone was at the door, but when he was quiet, he heard nothing else. He pulled a random shirt out of one of the stacks and started to unbutton it on the way to his door. When he passed the bed, he threw the shirt on it, not wanting to bother with the buttons anymore. As he got closer and closer to the door, he could hear a faint knocking, and wondered to himself why the person on the other side wasn't knocking louder. He figured that the servants had learned to stay away from him after he had a fight with his father, because the last time someone had caught him in that bad of a mood he had thrown a book at their head. Seto had missed by little more than a foot and it sent a clear message.

Seto reached the door and swung it open, scowling at the servant he saw before him.

"What?" He said callously, walking back into his room toward his shirt on the bed.

"Your father asked me to bring something to you," the male servant said politely while motioning to another outside Seto's field of vision. The servant had a slight look of disgust on his face, and another, larger, male servant came around the edge of Seto's door frame, pushing in front of him what looked like a wild man-animal. It was skinny, covered in what could have possibly been considered clothing a long time ago, with a mop of tangled black hair flattened to his head and obscuring his down-turned face. On second thought, maybe his hair was dark red, Seto couldn't really tell. The large man-servant shoved the "thing" toward Seto and it stumbled down to its knees. Seto looked down in shock, what was he supposed to do?

"What's this?" Seto asked the first servant.

"I believe your father said it was a gift. I believe he said 'something that was yours alone,'" The servant looked at Seto slightly confused, but didn't have the courage nor status to ask why.

Seto looked back down at the thing. He couldn't really call it a gift; gifts were supposed to be something nice, something that one didn't have to fix before it would be presentable. His father had obviously not put a lot of effort into finding Seto something that wouldn't embarrass the older man publicly. Seto took it as a victory though, his father knew that he couldn't stop Seto from doing what he would, so the old man made it easier for Seto to get what he wanted at home. He had cut his loses and retreated. Seto smiled devilishly at that thought, he had won and he hadn't even had to raise his voice.

One of the servants cleared their throat, and Seto pulled himself out of his thoughts. Both of the servants looked uncomfortable, even though they didn't know why. Seto waved them away and cautiously bent down to get a better look at his "gift." Seto kneeled down all the way to the ground and reached out for the other's chin, placing his index finger and thumb on either side and gently pulling up. The "thing's" head was not resisting, but it seemed to take forever just to get it to look at Seto's feet. Seto paused pulling the chin up and tilted his head, he couldn't see the other's face, but his bangs were blond, and coupled with the black-or was that red?-hair above it, proved a very interesting picture. Seto shook his head and continued pulling up at the slow pace. He could see his fingers and the chin they were resting on, the skin a honey-bronze color. Then he uncovered the other's nose, thin and straight. The bangs were still a problem, covering the eyes of the other person, but when Seto had brought it's face up so that they were staring each other straight on, he let out a little gasp.

Blood red eyes were staring back at him.

A/N: And that's the end of chapter one. Hope it was enjoyable, I've read it over a lot and think it is. Next chapter is REALLY long (goes into a corner and rocks back and forth, crying with bloodied fingertips). I don't know when it's gonna get posted, I still need to read it over and over and send it to my beta to see if she can find any errors I missed. Reviews are very appreciated, I have yet to get a flame, so if you would like to be nice and not send me any I'd like to keep my record free of them. Though it might be a nice experience, just don't flame me 'cause I said that. Criticism is welcome. One can never get enough when aspiring to become a better writer. And, well, I guess I have nothing else to say. Review!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I just finished the third chapter, and it's long too, I have a feeling that I'm not gonna be able to write short little chapters anymore. Oh well... I had a lot of awkward sentences in this chapter, some of them I fixed, but some of them I just couldn't see...so I left them. Sorry.

Thanks for all the reviews, I appreciate them. I'm glad people are enjoying this.

Warning: there is some cursing in this chapter...(thinks) I'm pretty sure there's nothing else...

**Chapter Two: **

Without removing his fingers from his newly acquired slave's chin, Seto sat down on the ground with his legs spread out flat. He leaned against the bed, and stared open-mouth at those red eyes. Never before in his life had he seen anyone with eyes that color, and his mind couldn't get over the entire picture sitting before him. They stared at Seto blankly, but he could see a fire just beneath the surface. Seto had always been able to see hidden parts of people; he prided himself that ability. It had come in handy more than once in his lifetime.

"So," Seto started. "What's your name?"

The person sitting in front of him continued to stare.

"Are you going to tell me?"

"Yami," he said quietly. His voice was deeper than Seto would have guessed, almost not fitting his body, but then again, it seemed to fit perfectly. Seto chuckled to himself.

"Alright, Yami, where do you come from?" A perfectly reasonable question, Seto thought, but Yami was giving him a confused look.

"I don't know," he answered cautiously. No one had ever asked about his personal information before and he was unsure about how to answer it. Yami decided, looking at the convincingly curious face of the brunet sitting opposite him, that he would just tell the truth. "I've always been a slave, at least, as long as I can remember."

Yami's voice washed over Seto, invading his senses and leaving him helpless. The only thought going the his head was, 'make him talk more.'

"What were your other masters like?" Seto said.

Yami went dead silent, not even the energy that had previously surrounded his body was buzzing. He had learned before that talking bad about people greater than himself would get him nothing but trouble, and even though he had a different feeling about this one, he didn't want to take his chances. Seto looked at him expectantly, and Yami returned the stare full force.

"What's wrong?" Seto asked.

"I shouldn't talk about the people that owned me before," Yami stated like it was a well known fact.

"Why not?" Seto felt like he was being left out of the loop, a feeling he wasn't too keen on.

"Because I have nothing good to say about them."

Seto laughed softly. Of course, Yami would be afraid of offending Seto, and the repercussions of doing that would undoubtedly be a severe punishment. Yami seemed like a man with a very strong will, and it intrigued Seto. He wanted to know everything, but would keep his curiosity in check until he had broke through Yami's built-in censorship.

"Hmm, well, for future reference, tell me all the answers you have for the questions I ask," Seto smirked. "I don't need another mindless drone to follow me around trying to please me."

Yami nodded. He was right, this owner would be far more different than his previous ones. Not only was Seto closer to his age, but he actually wanted Yami's input on things. Most of the things Yami was required for by his other masters had no need for any conversational skills, so this experience would be one to remember.

"So, you want me to..." Yami started. He didn't really know where to go from there, he was lost in his new position with no prior information to go on.

Luckily, Seto knew where Yami was going with this. "I want you to be you, don't worry about stroking my ego, I don't need any more confidence. Have your own opinions, I don't have the energy to always tell you what to do and think. Use your common sense."

Yami furrowed his brow in concentration, absorbing all that the other was saying. He had guessed that was what Seto had wanted, but didn't really trust himself to believe it, and then there it was, coming out of his master's mouth. Proof that he didn't have watch his own mouth.

"That means I wont get sold again," Yami said quietly to himself.

"What was that?"

"The last two master's I had sold me because I was getting belligerent." Yami kept his face static, but the fire that Seto had seen before was now more prominent.

"Fantastic," Seto said. "That's exactly what you will be like with me. No fake bullshit, okay?"

"Right," Yami agreed.

"Then let's get you cleaned up, you look horrible."

Seto sighed in annoyance. He watched as three incompetent female servants undressed Yami and put him in the bath, starting to rub furiously at his skin and looking dumbfounded as to what to do with his hair. Yami looked thoroughly uncomfortable, glancing over at Seto every once in a while with a pleading look. The servant who had been assigned to Yami's hair was having a tough time, alternating from brush to comb trying to release all the tangles out. She wasn't getting very far, and huffing impatiently, yanked harder and harder until Yami's head was being pulled back too. Every time she pulled he would let out an almost inaudible hiss and close his eyes in pain. The servant didn't even seem to notice.

Seto wanted to go and jam that brush where it wouldn't see the light of day, but he contained the urge. This was just further proof that added onto Seto's anger at servants.

"For fuck's sake!" Seto screamed, throwing his arms up in frustration. The three servants and Yami looked at him, surprised and shocked at the outburst. "Can't you see you're hurting him!" He gestured at Yami.

The servant who was tackling Yami's hair looked at Yami's head, at Seto, and then back at Yami's head.

Seto let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes. "Fucking morons," he muttered to himself.

"Leave," he ordered, walking over to the edge of the bath. " I should've just done this myself."

The servants scrambled to their feet and bowed a little before exiting the bathroom. Seto heard them whisper something to each other, but didn't care to find out what it was.

Yami had turned so that he was facing the edge of the bath. He still looked shocked at what Seto had said, and what that had implied. Was Seto really going to wash him? _That would be a bizarre twist_, Yami thought. But then again, this entire day had been a bizarre twist. Yami would never have dreamed that he would be bought by someone who wanted his mind, and now he was sitting in a huge bath tub being washed. It didn't even matter who was washing him, the point was he didn't have to do it himself. Now that he thought about it, Yami had never actually been in a proper bath tub before. He usually bathed himself with a towel and small bucket of water.

Seto was still looking at the door, burning with rage. Then he remembered that Yami was in the bath, and looked down at him. Yami looked so pathetic with his messy hair, skinny little body, and the large red eyes staring back up at him. Seto sighed and sat down on the cold, hard marble facing Yami. There was no point in beating around the bush, so without any words, Seto picked up the neglected brush and stared at Yami.

"Turn around," he said, using his index finger to illustrate what he wanted the other to do. Yami turned around, still in shock over what was happening.

Seto looked at the black mass in front of him and took a deep breath. This was going to be difficult. _Just start_, he thought, _it'll get better_. He hoped it would. With another deep breath, Seto took a small knot and started to comb it out, making sure he was gentle and not pulling. It was difficult, he had to constantly keep his frustration in check, because he could easily lose patience and do something he would regret.

Through some miracle of Seto's will, he untangled all of Yami's hair. It took quite a while, Seto had to change his position many times due to something or another falling asleep. Yami, on the other hand, stayed completely still the entire time, never moving and never talking. His eyes stared off into space like he was thinking something profound that Seto would never understand. While Seto sat back and admired his work, he stretched out his long legs.

Yami took this opportunity to turn around. "Why are you doing this?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Why are _you_ washing _me_?" Yami squinted his eyes when he stressed "you" and "me."

"Because I like things to be perfect, and I am the only one who can achieve that," Seto replied.

"But...I can clean myself," Yami protested. He was unnerved by the niceness his new master was showing, knowing that no one ever did things for him without expecting something in return.

"Not as well as I can," Seto retorted. "I am a little obsessive about...well, everything. Once I show you exactly how I want you to wash, you can do it yourself. And you have to wash at least once every three days, the stench of body odor is incredibly displeasing to me, even if it is covered up with perfumes."

"Do you bathe that often?" Yami asked. It was strange for someone to wash that often, though usually people didn't have enough water or enough man-power to get that amount of water into a bath tub.

"Yes, maybe even more," Seto said. "And I keep my hair short, and I wash my face and change my clothing every single day."

Yami smiled, his new master was a complete control freak. He didn't mind, at least the tall brunet didn't want to control him.

"Alright, now I have to wash your hair, and pay attention to this, I'm going to show you which bottles to use when." Seto got up and walked over to a tall, thin closet. It was barely noticeable from where Yami was sitting, it seemed to just be part of the wall. But when Seto reached out for a small, silver handle and pulled the door open, Yami saw a distinct difference between the patterns on the door and the wall. Seto grabbed three bottles off of one of the shelves and closed the door. There was a tall, thin clear glass bottle with a clear liquid inside, a smaller light- purple stained glass bottle, and an opaque dark red bottle. Seto walked back over and sat down, placing the bottles in a neat row next to him.

Seto picked up the red bottle and showed it to Yami like he was showing a wine bottle. "You use this one first," he uncapped the bottle and sniffed it, then put it in front of Yami's face, ushering him to do the same. "It smells like roses. It will get all the grime off of your hair, but leave it very dry. So..." He recapped the bottle and put it back in the line, then picked up the purple one. "You use this one to make it feel less like straw." He did the same with this bottle as he had done with the rose bottle so Yami could smell it too. "This one is lavender." Yami nodded.

"What's that one for?" Yami pointed at the clear bottle.

"That one," Seto picked up the clear bottle, but just held it up and looked at the liquid inside, "is for after you dry your hair. The other two you have to wash off, but this one stays in. It doesn't smell like anything, really, but will leave a silky sheen to your hair."

Yami snickered. "You said I could say anything I wanted to, right? Even if it would offend you?"

Seto looked at Yami suspiciously. "Yes," he answered carefully. "Continue."

"You're like my old mistresses, they always had bottles and bottles of things that would make their hair or skin look pretty, or make them smell good," Yami laughed again at the implication that Seto was like a woman. That implication wasn't lost on Seto either, who glared at Yami, but made sure that it wasn't as mean as he could make it.

"I'm not a woman," Seto said, Yami laughed again. "I already told you, I like to be clean."

"But all those fragrances..." Yami burst out into hysterical fits of laughter.

Seto could see why Yami's other masters had sold him. He took it as a personal challenge though.

"Would you rather I smelled bad? Hmmm." Seto thought dramatically, bringing his index finger and thumb up to his chin and looking off to one side. "Sour, like sharp moldy cheese? Would I be more appealing then?" Seto looked back at Yami, who had slowed down to a small giggle, and tilted his head to one side waiting for an answer.

Yami stopped and lowered his head a little. He knew he was bested because he really didn't find that appealing. His other masters had smelled like that, but of course, they covered it with perfume like most people did. "No, I guess not..." He said.

"Good," Seto said. "Besides, even if you said 'yes,' I had no plans on changing, you'd just have to live with me smelling like roses."

They both stared at each other in silence. Yami let the conversation they just had sink in, all the things he wouldn't have dared to say to others he had said to this man, and he wasn't being beaten for it, Seto even played along. Yami almost cried. He had never felt this safe in his life, and even though at the back of his head he knew what would happen eventually, he just wanted to savor this moment when he didn't have to worry about it.

"Alright, dunk your head under and then come back up. I'm going to show you how to use these," Seto said, turning to pick up the red bottle.

Yami did as asked and marveled at the feeling his untangled hair made on his face when he was underwater. It moved of its own accord, lightly touching his skin. He smiled a little and turned his head from side to side, slowly, loving that feeling. He stopped when he felt a tap on the top of his head, and remembered that he was only supposed to wet his hair and go back up. Quickly, Yami shot up through the water and tossed his head back to get the veil of hair off of his face. He brought his hands up to smooth the stray hairs out and opened his eyes, starting to apologize about being under so long. But he stopped at the sight in front of him. Seto was sitting back with his weight supported on one of his hands, his free one out in front like he was stopping something, and the whole front of his clothes was wet. Yami started to furrow his brow in confusion, and then remembered that he had whipped his hair back and in the process had sprayed large amounts of water in front of him. And Seto was in front of him.

"I asked that _you_ get wet, not me," Seto said sarcastically. Yami was trying to hold in his laughter, he figured that he had already laughed at Seto enough for one day, but he couldn't hold back one small burst of it before he quickly brought his hands up to hold his mouth closed.

"Sorry, I didn't realize what I was doing," Yami managed to say through his fingers.

"I hadn't planned on changing my clothes for the rest of the day, maybe I'll just sit here sopping wet," Seto remarked, looking down at his wet clothes and sighing. "Anyway, let's get on with things."

He uncapped the red bottle and tipped it over, letting a thick gel pour out onto his hand. The liquid was almost clear, with an iridescence of red. The smell was intoxicating, sweet and musky, Yami thought it must have more fragrance in it than just rose. Seto righted the bottle and waited for the excess stop dripping before putting the cap back on and placing it with the others. Then he put his hands together and smeared the gel on either hand.

"Turn around again, I don't want to miss any spots," he said. Yami turned once again.

Seto started by running his hands on top of Yami's hair, getting it roughly even on the surface. Yami didn't know what to expect and pulled away a little bit from the contact Seto made. Seto started massaging the gel into Yami's hair going from the top of his head to his neck. Again, Yami pulled farther away.

"Stop moving," Seto commanded. "I can't bend that far."

Yami forced himself to relax back to the edge of the tub. He watched his breathing and willed it to slow down to it's normal pace before relaxing his shoulders. Yami didn't like to be touched, especially not by his masters, even though this was a different kind of touching. He knew that it was only meant to get the dirt out of his hair, but it still bothered him.

Seto continued massaging the liquid into Yami's hair completely unaware of what it was doing to him mentally. When it had become frothy, he pulled his hands out and dipped them in the water beside Yami, who instinctively moved away.

"I'm just washing my hands off," Seto assured. "Wash that out of your hair. I'm going to have to do it again, your hair is so dirty."

Yami held his breath and went underwater again, this time he tilted his head back when he was still under to prevent a flashback from earlier. When he came up, Seto was ready with the next amount of gel and quickly went about applying it to Yami's hair. Now that Yami knew what to expect, he was a little less jumpy, and closed his eyes so that the only thing stimulating his senses was the circular motions on his head. Right when Yami was starting to enjoy the feeling, Seto took his hands away and put them in the water, a signal for Yami to rinse his hair.

Seto started talking when Yami was out of the water again. "Now this next one, the lavender one, is also one that you wash out, but it doesn't lather up like the other one." Seto repeated the process, uncapping the bottle and pouring a small amount out on his hand, then rubbing it slowly into Yami's hair. He let his hands linger on the small head, making sure he got every strand. This part always made Seto feel complete, like he was taking something away and then replacing it with something better. A strange feeling, but it settled something restless in his body.

He stopped rubbing it in and untangled his hands from the dark hair, then went back over it to make it smooth and get the excess off. "Now wash that away and see the difference," Seto said.

Yami dunked his head under for the fourth time, but this time his hair was not just soft, it was also silky. He brought his hands up and ran them through it, he had never felt anything like it before. He surfaced and turned around with a big smile on his face. "I can see why you like to be clean," Yami said. "My hair is so soft."

"Yeah," Seto agreed. "Do you remember all the steps so far? Good, now get out and dry off." Seto got up and walked over to the chair the servants had placed the clean towels on. Behind him, he could hear the displacement of water and then feet on the marble floors. Yami wasn't very modest even though he didn't like being touched; it didn't bother him if people looked, since they were going to do it anyway.

Seto turned around with the towels in hand, but wasn't quite prepared for what he saw. He knew that Yami had gotten out of the bath, and that he would be naked, but he expected some underfed, gangly creature. Yami was far from gangly. His entire body was the tan color his face was, his long, thin appendages well defined and perfectly proportioned. His torso was lean, with a small amount of definition around his abdomen and chest, not too much, but more than Seto would have thought. Yami could have almost passed for a nobleman, although he was a little too tanned. Seto's breathing deepened and his heartbeat quickened at the mere thought of what he could do to a body like that. Yami's expression completed the portrait, it was stately and contemplative, he wasn't looking at Seto, but rather at something far in the distance. He had a little bit of a smirk, just enough so his face became familiar, not like someone you meet on the street and don't really know or care to know. Seto didn't want it to seem like he was staring, but he didn't want to look away, so he made like he was walking back to Yami at a very slow pace. It all came abruptly to a stop when he finally reached the dripping boy, and Yami looked at him as he took a towel.

Yami started to dry his body off, rubbing his arms and legs down, all the while Seto was watching. When Yami had finished, he wrapped it around his waist and took the other towel, turned away from Seto and flipped his hair upside down, making sure he dried it to the best of his ability. When he was done, he handed the wet towel back to Seto.

"No, put it back on your head when you were flipped down and twist it. Make it into a turban, it'll dry your hair faster." Seto said, rejecting the towel.

"Oh, ok," Yami bent down again and did as told.

Seto sighed. "Now we need to find clothing for you," Seto looked away worriedly. "For the time being you'll just have to wear my clothing. Tomorrow we'll go into town and get you some fitted clothes."

"Really? I get my own clothes?" Yami asked. Before he had always worn hand-me-downs, he didn't even know that he could have clothes that fit him.

"Yeah, you wont fit any of my clothes, you'd be swimming in them. For tonight you can wear a shirt, it should cover you. They're almost too big on me. My pants would probably be too large," Seto thought, "but maybe we could tighten them up with a belt. Follow me."

Seto walked out of the bathroom, headed toward his closet. When he was out of the bathroom he noticed how dark it already was, and was having trouble seeing what was in front of him.

"Ah, shit!" Seto screamed. He had ran into what he guessed was a low coffee table he had near his window, and if the curtains had been open he would've seen it. Now his shin was pounding in pain. Yami, who was walking closely behind Seto, bumped into him with the sudden stop and they both toppled over.

"Master, are you alright?" Yami asked edging closer. Seto cringed at the title and the pain in his leg, it hadn't really set in that he owned Yami.

"Mmm, I'm fine," Seto said through clenched teeth. The pain was receding, and Seto started taking deep breaths to quicken the recession. He heard Yami get up, and then felt small hands feeling around his shoulder and down his arm to his hand, both of them grabbing onto his one. He caught on and, with Yami's help, stood up. Seto tried to stand on his own, but he hurt his leg more than he thought, and if it wasn't for Yami's hand, he would have fallen backward. He felt another hand snake around his waist and he hung his arm around Yami's shoulders. Like this, they walked toward the bed, and Yami let Seto plop into it. Seto let out a sigh of relief.

"Where's your closet?" Yami asked.

"Go forward a couple of steps and you should be at the door. But before you do that, open some of those curtains," Seto said. He closed his eyes and waited for the light.

Yami swung the heavy black velvet curtains open, and the room was provided with enough light from the full moon to see the general shapes of things. It was definitely nighttime, and Yami was a little hungry, but he could handle it, he had gone hungry before. He wondered if Seto was hungry. Probably not, he hadn't mentioned it, and Seto seemed like the kind of person that would. Yami tied the curtains and walked over to the doorway he assumed was the closet. He opened the door and confirmed it was.

"Which shirt can I borrow?" Yami called back to Seto.

"I don't care, just pick one," Seto replied.

"Ok," Yami muttered to himself. There were so many shirts to pick from, luckily there wasn't a wide array of colors, or Yami would be stuck there forever trying to pick which he wanted to wear. He lifted the shirts without unfolding them, one by one, feeling their different textures and looking at their different colors, until he got to the bottom of one stack in the middle. There, hidden underneath various shades of blue and black, was a dark red shirt made from the softest material Yami had ever felt. He carefully pulled it out and unfolded it, looking at its size and fully appreciating how expensive it must've been. He scrunched the cloth up and rubbed it against his cheek, smiling at how it felt just like his hair underwater. Quickly, he pulled it on and removed the towel. There was something about the way the fabric slid over his body that made him completely peaceful, with that one act he had solidified his feeling of security in his master's house. He still worried about being raped, but somehow his body told him that it would be alright, even if his mind protested.

"Have you found anything?" Seto's voice asked from the other room.

"Yes," Yami replied. He walked out of the closet and closed the door. When he turned around he found that Seto had lit some candles that were around the room, giving it a warm glow.

Seto looked up and noticed the shirt, almost laughing when he saw it went down to the smaller boy's knees. "I didn't know I had that color in my wardrobe," he commented. Then he smirked. "What's up with your hair?"

"Huh?" Yami asked, bringing his hands up to feel his hair.

It was sticking straight up, adding at least a foot onto Yami's height. Never before had his hair been so clean, so like Seto, he was shocked at the odd behavior.

"Guess that's what it does," Yami concluded, shrugging his head.

"At least you're not that short anymore," Seto said, blowing out the lit match.

Yami scowled at him in the semi-darkness, and then remembered that he was free to do so, and scowled more noticeably. He walked over to Seto and placed the towel on a back of one of the chairs. The room was more or less visible now, and Yami took his time to look around. When he arrived, he was forced down to the ground and stayed staring at it, then he was rushed into the bathroom, so the full magnitude of the room couldn't hit him. It was gorgeous, there were at least three areas in it, a sitting place facing the tall, long wall made almost entirely of windows with a door leading to a balcony just as large as the room, a large couch facing the fireplace that was opposite the windows, and near the bathroom entrance there was a bookshelf. At the other end of the room there was an enormous bed, with black covers and pillows, and the wood of the headboard was stained black. It appeared like a black hole in the room that was full of a soft golden glow, and as far as Yami was concerned, it could stay that way.

"Now that your hair is dry you have to put this in it," Seto said, pulling Yami out of his own thoughts. Yami turned around and stared at the clear bottle in Seto's hand, then took it. He continued to stare at it, unsure of what to do, when Seto stood up and took the bottle back. He uncorked it and took one of Yami's hands, causing the other to cringe. "You don't like to be touched, do you?" Seto asked, not even looking up at Yami's expression.

"No, I don't," he replied. Seto nodded subtly, and poured a little bit of the oil into Yami's upturned hand. It felt sticky and slimy at the same time, and slightly disturbed Yami.

"Rub your hands together and drag them through your hair," Seto said, releasing Yami's hand.

Yami stuck his tongue out in disgust when he put his two hands together and heard the squishing noise it made. This oil stuff was gross, and it only got worse when he rubbed them together to get it evenly coated. Yami was relieved when he brought his hands up to his head and started to rid them of the oil. Seto, during Yami's freak out, had disappeared into the bathroom, only to reappear with a brush in his hand. Yami wiped the extra oil on the towel and took the brush, gently running it through his hair.

"Do I have to use that all the time?" Yami asked. He really didn't want to repeat the experience again.

"I guess not," Seto said. "But it makes your hair really shiny."

"I think I'll leave being shiny to you," Yami said. "That stuff is revolting."

Seto grunted. He couldn't see what the big problem was, but then again, he didn't remember a time when he wasn't using it, so he was used to the feeling.

Yami and Seto yawned simultaneously. It was getting late and they had both had a long, difficult day. Yami was just about falling asleep on his feet, but his eyes shot wide open when he thought about where he was going to sleep. He hadn't been shown to his quarters, which meant he currently didn't have any. His heartbeat quickened, he was having too good a time to ruin it with...something he didn't want to even think about. This entire day had been like a dream, but it was threatening to come crashing down.

Seto closed his mouth after a long yawn and blinked his eyes a couple of times. "Are you tired too?" Seto asked. Yami nervously nodded his head.

"Do you have a room yet?" Yami shook his head 'no.'

"Well, I guess you could just sleep with me," Seto said. Yami wasn't sure that was the tone he was expecting, there was something in it that put a small part of Yami's mind at ease.

But Yami couldn't get rid of the dreadful feeling that easily. "M-maybe I could just sleep on the couch," Yami said.

"God no, that thing is so uncomfortable, trust me, I've fallen asleep on it before, and woken up with my back stiff as a board," Seto eyed Yami suspiciously. Something wasn't right, but Seto was too tired to figure it out, and he was starting to get annoyed. "Just get in the bed."

Yami's breath hitched in his throat. That was the tone he was waiting for, the one that would destroy his hopes that maybe this master would be different. His head sunk and he walked slowly over to the side of the bed closest to him, followed by Seto. Yami lifted the covers and got under, closing his eyes tightly and waiting for the inevitable. He waited, and waited, and when he was just about to give up waiting, he cracked one eye open, and saw that the other side of the bed was unoccupied. Thoroughly confused, he sat up and bent further over, noticing that the door to the closet was open. Out walked Seto, his clothing changed into black silk pants and matching button-up top. He walked lazily over to the bed and lifted the covers on the other side, not bothering to look back at the confused Yami. Seto laid down and rolled over so that his back was facing Yami, then pulled the covers up over his shoulders. Yami sat there, wondering what had just happened. He shook his head and laid back down, doing the same as Seto had. He stayed awake for a couple minutes, listening to Seto's quiet, steady breathing, before he closed his own eyes and went to sleep.

A/N: (Sigh) It's over...

Couple of things... First: I kinda based Seto's cleanliness on myself, cause I have OCD where everything needs to be really, really clean. Bathing is a total must! Second: My beta has never hurt her shin so bad that she couldn't walk, so she was a little confused when I wrote that Seto needed Yami's help to get up. Well, I don't know how many of you have ever done that, but I have, and trust me, it is NOT a pleasant experience. One time I ran into a metal slide and bruised my shin all up, I couldn't stand up for a really long time. Just reading that part makes my shins hurt.

Alrighty then, that's all I got to say, so review please, I wanna know if I wrote something good. These chapters seem to be taking just about a week to write and proof, so I guess chapter three will be up next weekend...except that I'm going on a cruise...maybe I'll throw my policy of finishing the next chapter before I post the most current one out the window just this once and post before Thanksgiving. (Smile) Though, I dunno... Might just be mean and wait till Tuesday of next week.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, the most I've ever gotten for one fic that's only two chapters long, currently. 0x0 -----speechless.

Blue September: I had a feeling they weren't invented yet, which is why I omitted the actual names. Maybe you guys could just overlook that one for the time being? (Nervous laugh)... And is Yami getting to close to Seto? Well, one more thing to overlook, I swear that what I have planned will not get Seto and Yami close for a very, very long time. Also, I use modern slang because it has more of an effect, but I use cursing, etc. sparingly. If this fic is just getting to fantastical, you can stop reading it. Not that I don't appreciate your help, it's good to know things like that and to fix problems that make it unbelievable. I'll try and get back on track for the next chapter.

To the general public: I'm also surprised that no one noticed the matches... granted, I hadn't either, until I posted it. Matches weren't around in that time, at least, not for the masses to use. I used it again in this chapter, I wrote it seriously right after the previous chapter, so I didn't notice. Last slip up, I'll check anything I'm not sure of online from now on instead of just letting it go. Oh, except for the leather, but I had to get that in there...and you don't know what I'm talking about. Well, just read it and then you will.

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own it.

**Chapter Three:**

Yami woke up slowly. He kept his eyes closed for an indefinable amount of time, letting his body relax into the comfort of the bed. He was laying curled up with the blankets wrapped around him tightly. He was perfectly comfortable. And the best part was that Seto hadn't tried to touch him at all. Yami had tossed and turned all night, waiting for it, but Seto had slept the entire time.

He lazily opened his eyes and gazed straight into Seto's sleeping face. He looked so peaceful, but even in sleep his expression commanded respect. Yami sighed. He couldn't believe the situation he was in, it was so far from any fantasy or dream he had ever come up with, it surpassed them ten times over. He was just about to close his eyes and go back to sleep when he heard scratching at the door to the hallway. He twisted his body and angled his head in a better position for listening, but he couldn't put his finger on what was making that noise.

Yami decided it was best if he got up and saw what it was before it woke Seto up. He quickly sat up and swung the blankets off of his body, shivering in the cold. He eyed the stone floor, wondering if he had enough courage to place his feet on it. But he listened to the scratching get more urgent, and bit the bullet. He swung his legs over and hovered just above the ground for a second before taking a deep breath and standing up. Yami shivered again as his legs were fully exposed and his feet were in contact with the cold floor. He walked over to the door and stopped when a thought came into his head. He furrowed his brow, concentrating with all his might on the sounds, then smiled to himself. _Seto must have dogs,_ he thought.

Yami's hand glided over the door knob, and getting a tight grip on it, he cracked it open enough for him to see two huge Mastiffs staring patiently back up at him. He had never seen dogs as big at that, they must've weighed at least a hundred and twenty-five pounds each. The black one stood up, waiting for Yami to open the door further, but the blue-gray one continued to sit there and stare at the new face. The black dog edged forward. Yami stepped back a little. The gleam in the dog's eyes was disconcerting, and the pure mass behind them was enough to scare Yami witless. Before Yami could close the door again, both of the dogs ran into the room, knocking Yami over. They ran clumsily to the bed and jumped up, causing the bed to creak and Seto to sit up completely awake. He wasn't up for long, the two dogs easily had the power to force him back down, and started climbing all over him, licking his face. The blue-gray one was a little less enthused than the black one, and after a couple of licks, turned around in a circle and plopped down in the spot that Yami had previously been.

Seto finally got the big black dog off of him and he glanced over at Yami, who was shocked beyond belief. Seto exhaled loudly and brought his hands up to his face, pulling his hair back and rubbing his eyes. He leaned back against the headboard. It wasn't every day that he was woken up by two enormous dogs practically crushing his rib cage.

Yami closed the door quietly and walked over to the bed. He kneeled by the side and leaned over, lining his face up with that of the blue-gray dog's. The dogs were so big and lovable, the fear he felt towards them easily vanished. He couldn't help but reach a hand out and pet the gray one's square head. "What are their names?" Yami asked Seto, continuing to pet the dog's head.

"That one," he pointed to the black dog at his feet, "is Drake, he is mine. And that one you're petting is Angel, she was my brother's."

Yami looked up at Seto, who was looking right through him, like looking into the past. "I didn't know you had a brother. Where is he?" Yami asked.

Seto was silent, and continued to look through Yami. He blinked once and focused on Yami's curious face. "I'd rather not talk about that," he replied quietly.

Yami nodded. From the way Seto had answered his question, he could tell that Seto's brother was dead, and Yami had a feeling that pushing Seto for more information would not be beneficial to his health. So he let it drop and returned his focus back at the now sleeping dog in front of him.

"I'm hungry," Seto said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I am too," Yami agreed. "I have been since last night, in fact."

"Why didn't you tell me, we could have gotten you some food."

"It was late and I was tired. Besides, I've gone hungry before, it's nothing new," Yami forced a smile to put the other at ease, but Seto saw right through it.

"If you want something, just ask. I can't read your mind," Seto said.

"Right, but you know, you're going to have to think for me in the beginning. This is all so new, I don't know where to start and I find myself thinking in circles, getting nowhere. Then I get upset and frustrated," Yami said.

"Fine," Seto said. "But only in the beginning." He got out of bed, fearlessly standing up and walking over to the windows that were still covered by curtains. He pulled them back and the room was filled with a dull gray light that washed over everything and toned the vibrant colors down.

Seto walked back over to the bed and leaned over it to get closer to Yami. "Aren't you going to offer to do something?" He asked.

Yami lazily glanced up at Seto. "But don't you like things to be perfect? How do you know I can do it satisfactorily?" He smiled angelically and straightened his back.

"I'll take your word for it right now, go light a fire in the fireplace," Seto said while walking to his closet to change. "I'm going to go get food."

"Why can't I go get food?" Yami asked.

Seto leaned out of the closet. "Because you don't have any clothes, remember? I don't think the other servants would appreciate you walking around with just a shirt on. Though it might be nice to unbalance their daily routine," Seto thought out loud. "No, no, I'll go."

He walked out of the closet, in the middle of pulling a dark blue shirt over his head, and headed for the door. He opened it and he started to walk out. "I expect that fire to be lit by the time I get back," he called out.

Yami sneered and looked after his master. He smiled at the dog next to him and with one final pat, he stood up and walked over to the fireplace.

Problem: how was he supposed to light it? Seto gave him no indication as to where the matches were, and his memory was a little fuzzy from the ending of last night, so he didn't remember where Seto had placed the ones he was using. At least there was kindling in the fireplace, and plenty of logs next to it on the brick floor. Yami pulled out the drawers of the tables that were on either side of the couch, but oddly enough, they didn't have anything in them. He searched the mantle of the fireplace, but the only things there was a long, ornamental fencing sword and a couple of books with fancy bookends. Yami turned around and inspected the floor underneath the coffee table and couch, turning up nothing. He stood back up and sighed, what was he going to do? He walked over to where a candle was placed and studied it, looking all around it. Finally, he gave up and fell down on the couch, which knocked into the table the candle was sitting on. He heard it rock on its thin legs and rushed to it to stop it from falling completely over, but he couldn't stop the candle from tumbling to the ground. This was the best thing that could've happened, for sitting underneath the candle was a small box of matches. Yami smiled to himself and picked the box up, opening it and finding an abundance of matches.

Yami crouched down in front of the fireplace, removing one of the matches and striking it on the brick wall next to him. It lit up with a flicker and then grew into a small flame, and Yami stared at it dancing on its small sliver of wood. He exhaled lightly and threw it on the kindling.

He heard the door open and stood up. Seto was awkwardly walking in, holding a tray full of food in one hand and the other pushing the door open. "Little help please," Seto said.

Yami rushed over and took the tray to the table over to the small table facing the windows. Whatever the food was smelled delicious, and the hunger pangs in Yami's stomach returned. "What is it?" He asked.

Seto walked up behind him and sat down in a tall, deep chair. "I don't usually eat in the morning, but I think it's just some bread and meat," he replied.

Yami removed the silver lid off of one of the plates and uncovered a large portion of pork; it was cold, but still looked delicious. He lifted another lid off and found a warm loaf of bread. Next to that was a bowl of mixed fruit.

"Looks great," Yami said, picking up a plate and serving himself.

"Mm," Seto said. He leaned over and grabbed a slice of bread.

Yami and Seto sat in silence as they ate. Yami tried hard not to inhale his food, but it was difficult. He was constantly reminding himself to eat slowly, and to make sure he did so, he punctuated eating with talking, mostly about random topics that popped into his head. But one thing kept coming up in the back of Yami's head, and it was getting more annoying by the minute.

Yami mumbled something incoherent.

"What? I didn't catch that," Seto said.

"Why..." he started. "Why didn't you...try to touch me last night?" He looked over at Seto with questioning eyes.

Seto slunk down into his armchair and put his feet up on the table. "Did you want me to?" He asked.

"No," Yami said.

"That's why."

"But what does it matter what I want?" Yami said, a little louder than he intended.

Seto growled. "Because I don't _rape_ people," he screamed back.

Yami stared at Seto after the outburst, eyes filling up with tears. With the conviction in that one sentence Yami's fears were almost erased. He would never be sold, he could say and do almost anything he wanted, and best of all, he would never be forced to do something he didn't want to. A solitary tear ran down his cheek, and he brought his hand up to wipe it away. Then another fell, and he found he couldn't stop them. Yami bent his head down and started rubbing his eyes. But it didn't help, they needed to be shed. He felt a hand on his back and looked up into soft, blue eyes.

"I didn't mean to yell at you," Seto said calmly, sitting down on the couch.

"No," Yami said, sniffling. "That's not why I'm crying."

Seto looked at him, slightly confused.

Yami still couldn't get rid of the paranoia, but he decided to ignore it for now.

"We should go into town now," Seto said, pulling his hand back. He stood up and walked over to his closet. A while later, he emerged with a pair of black cotton pants. "These are the smallest pants I have, they'll just have to work for now," he said, holding the pants up and handing them to Yami. "You can tighten the waist with this belt."

"Thanks," Yami said, wiping the last of his tears away and slipping the pants on. He sighed as he looked down at them; they were, simply put, far too large for him. He probably could've put both of his legs into one of the pants', and the cuffs would need to be rolled up a few times so he wouldn't trip. He looked back up at Seto with a slightly amused look on his face.

Seto had the same look on, and crossed his arms across his chest. He took a moment to fully absorb how small his slave was, and when he was done, he walked over to Yami and held out the belt. Yami shifted so that he could hold up the pants with only one hand, and took the belt. He threaded it through the loops, glad when he tightened it and jumped up and down a couple of times to make sure the pants would stay on.

"Looks like it works," Yami said triumphantly. He sat back on the couch and started rolling the cuffs up.

"Oh, Hell," Seto said, looking out the window with a contemplative look. He looked back at Yami with a creased brow. "You don't have any shoes, do you?"

Realization struck Yami as he thought on it. Slowly, he shook his head. "No, I don't think I do."

"That's the first thing we're getting," Seto stated. He couldn't have Yami walking around bare-footed while they shopped.

Yami completed rolling the cuffs up and slapped his palms down on his thighs, looking up at Seto. "Are we going yet?"

"I was just waiting for you. Tuck in your shirt and I'll go get you a coat," Seto said, walking back over to the closet, trailed closely by Yami, who was stuffing the ends of his shirt into the pants. "I'm afraid I don't have any red ones, but..." Seto started. He rifled through the various coats he had hanging in his closet, and pulled out, what was on him a knee-length black coat with black lacquered buttons, "this should do." He walked out of the small room and gave it to Yami, who immediately put it on. The coat was made out of a sturdy, thick cotton, and amazingly, almost fit Yami perfectly. It was a little broader in the shoulders, and went down past his knees, but it still looked good on him. He buttoned it up and straightened the collar, which seemed like it was meant to stay up around his neck. When he was straightening the collar, he felt rough surfaces that indicated some type of embroidery. He looked down at the sleeves and saw the same embroidery in black thread, and upon further inspection, noticed that it was a delicately sewn dragon wrapped around a single stem of a rose. The flower began at the slit in the coat arm, where the dragon's mouth was open, ready to devour the bloom.

Seto admired the coat and the wearer. It looked better on Yami than it did on him, and Seto decided that he would get that one tailored so it fit Yami better. "We should get going," Seto said, not moving. Yami looked back at him expectantly.

"Alriiiiiight," Yami replied. "Are you planning on moving? 'Cause I could stand here all day, but warn me first so I can get in a comfortable position."

Seto shook his head and shot Yami a sarcastic smile. "We're leaving," he said, walking past Yami to the door. When he reached it, he turned back over to Yami, who was rushing to catch up. Yami was having trouble walking in the pants, and even though he did a good job shortening the length, they were still too long.

Seto opened the door and let Yami exit first. Their journey through the halls was uneventful, except for the odd servant that would look down at Yami's bare feet, and then at Seto, who would give them an 'if you ask, I will kill you' glare. They reached the entrance hall in no time.

Seto grabbed his own coat and boots, and sat down on the bench underneath the coat rack. He pulled his boots on and stood up, gesturing when a servant came up and asked if he could get Seto's horse. Seto walked out into the hazy mid-morning sun and stood at the top of the steps, waiting for his horse. Yami padded up beside him, and they stood in silence.

"What kind of horse do you have?" Yami asked, out of the blue.

"A black Friesian," Seto replied. "Do you know what Friesians look like?" Yami shook his head. "Well, you'll see soon enough. There."

A little gasp escaped Yami's lips as he looked around Seto, at a large black horse being lead up the road. It's hooves were covered in soft, curly hair, making it look like it was floating on the ground as it trotted towards them. It's thick muscles flexed in a rhythmical motion underneath its perfectly groomed coat. The horse's large, black eyes peeked out from behind it's long, wavy bangs. It's mane flowed in the slight wind like faeries were dancing in it. All in all, it was a breath-taking sight.

As the horse came to a stop, Seto walked down the steps and took the reins from the servant. He stroked its nose a couple of times and turned so it was facing Yami.

"His name is Spirit," Seto said, looking at Spirit's face. "I've had him for two years. He's a picky horse, he wont let anyone but me ride him. One time my father tried, but Spirit bucked him off. It was hilarious."

Yami walked up to the horse, tentatively reaching out a hand and brushing the tips of his fingers on the soft hair. Spirit lifted his head and whinnied, and quickly Yami retracted his hand.

"Don't worry," Seto said. "I think he likes you." Seto patted the horse's snout and directed it so that Yami was facing it's side. "Now we take the real test. Get on."

Yami looked over at Seto, shocked. He was not about to get on a horse that had a reputation for bucking people off.

"I don't think so," Yami said resolutely.

"If you don't, we'll never leave," Seto replied.

Yami sighed and stared at the black leather saddle. "Fine."

Yami stuck his bare foot in the silver stirrup, reaching over the horse's body to grab the horn and pulled his body up, swinging his leg over the saddle. He sat down quickly, closing his eyes and waiting to be flung back to the ground. When he was still sitting on the horse, he opened his eyes and looked down at Seto. He released the air he was holding in his lungs.

"See? I told you you'd be fine," Seto said.

"I didn't believe you."

"Aw," Seto said sarcastically, bringing his hand up to his heart. "Stab me in the heart, why don't you." He glanced up at Yami and smirked.

Yami just rolled his eyes. "Can we leave now?"

"Yeah, yeah," Seto replied, walking around the side and in one graceful movement mounted the horse behind Yami. He settled in and kicked the horse in the sides. It jerked and started to trot forward. They were on their way.

Seto and Yami rode into a small, bustling town. People were walking around, bartering for vegetables, fruit, or fresh fish from the harbor a little ways away. The people hushed a little as they noticed who was riding in, but in general, life went on undisturbed. Yami couldn't stop looking around, the only parts of a town he had ever known was the slave trades, he had never been to the marketplace proper. Yami stared up at a great fountain as they passed it, a large stone mermaid sat upon a rock holding a jar with water pouring out of it.

"Here's our first stop," Seto whispered into Yami's ear which made Yami shiver and cringe. Yami pulled away a little and directed his attention to a small shop with a few pairs of shoes in the window.

Seto stopped the horse when they reached the tying post, jumping off and tying the reins around the beam of wood. Yami slid off the horse and followed Seto, who was already walking into the store.

The windows provided a good deal of sunlight, but it still seemed dingy inside the small, cluttered store. Pieces of leather and wood were scattered here and there, and Yami had to be careful where he stepped because of the few bent nails littering the ground.

"Go sit down," Seto said, gesturing at some chairs lined up against the wall. Seto continued to the counter and ringed the bell. A short, tubby man with a bushy gray mustache walked out from the back room, wiping his hands on his apron.

"Ah, welcome young sir," the owner greeted with a toothy smile. "How may I help you?"

Seto leaned against the counter and conferred with the owner, who would look around Seto at Yami every once in a while. When Seto had stopped talking the owner nodded his head and smiled again, disappearing in the back room.

Seto walked back to Yami and sat down. "Alright, we'll get you measured and he'll make the shoes."

"How long will it take?" Yami asked.

"Long, but not too long. This guy is really good at making shoes, and with a little extra money, he can make them faster."

Yami was about to say something else, but the owner came back with a measuring tape draped around his neck and held a stick of graphite and piece of paper. He nodded his head in greeting and bent down.

"May I have your right foot?" He said.

The measuring took no longer than five minutes, and after that, Seto and Yami were left alone, listening to strange noises coming out of the back room. They sat this way the entire time, Seto looked like he was asleep with his eyes open, and Yami was content listening to the noises from the back. When they stopped, Seto seemed to awaken from his 'sleep' and shifted in his seat.

The owner walked out of the back room holding a pair of riding boots. They were made out leather, stained black, and they looked perfect to Yami. The chunky man bent down and, without asking, lifted one of Yami's legs and placed the boot on it. It fit nicely. Yami took his leg back and rotated his ankle in a circle, making sure that the boot was on fully. They felt comfortable, and he took the other boot from the maker and put it on. Yami stood up and looked down at the boots, walked around and jumped a little.

"They feel great," he said.

The shop keeper smiled. "Good. You just come back and tell me if they need any alterations," he looked around at Seto, "and I'll fix them straight away." Seto nodded and took a pouch of coins out, opening it and handing several to the owner. Yami was still walking around with his head bent down, looking at his new shoes.

"Alright, Yami, ready for the next place?" Seto said, walking over to the door.

Yami snapped his head up. "Sure," he said.

Seto and Yami walked out of the store, and were temporarily blinded by the light outside. When everything came into focus, they started down the street, heading toward another shop. They passed numerous people who, for the most part, ignored the two. Some people looked at Seto, and then glanced at Yami, but no one said anything. Yami just thought people were looking at him because he was wearing clothing that obviously didn't fit, and felt a little embarrassed.

Seto turned into a tailors shop and held the door open for Yami. Unlike the shoe shop, this one was bright and full of different colors and types of fabrics stacked on shelves as high as the ceiling. The back room of the store wasn't separated from the main room, so anyone could see many women hard at work. One of them came up to the pair and smiled sweetly. She looked to be younger than them, dressed in plain neutral colors, with her straight brown hair back in a neat braid.

"Hi," she said. "How can I help you?"

"We need a couple of outfits," Seto replied.

"Alright," she smiled, "I assume it's for him." She pointed at Yami, who shyly nodded his head. "Let me get my measuring tape, and then we'll get down to business."

Seto and Yami were left almost shocked, she had said that very seriously, and it wasn't befitting of how she initially held herself. They weren't given enough time to fully think about that, because she had returned and was leading Yami over to a raised platform.

This time, the measuring took much longer. The seamstress would jump from one part of Yami's body to the other, saying the measurements out loud, but not taking any notes. When she dragged the tape down Yami's back, he had to contain the urge to laugh out loud and almost couldn't. Yami had always been ticklish in his lower back, though he never told anyone. When she was done, she stood in front of Yami and clapped her hands.

"Good," she said. "I'm done. Come with me to pick out some fabrics."

Yami stepped off the platform and followed the girl.

"I'm thinking a wardrobe of reds would suit you nicely, don't you think?" She said, looking inquisitively up at Yami.

"I was going to say that I wanted red. Are you going to design my clothes?"

"Yep, and I'll probably make them too, my mom and her friends are getting a little old and can't see anymore."

"We heard that, child," one of the ladies from the back said. "We're not blind, we can still see the stitches."

The girl leaned closer to Yami. "That's what they think," she whispered. "I think they're losing it."

Yami smiled. The girl turned away and pulled out a bolt of red velvet.

"This is a nice fabric, sturdy, warm, it'll make a great jacket. That one you have on definitely doesn't fit, but I like the idea of knee-length for you. Make you look taller. Sir Seto likes them long, and it suits him, don't you think?"

Yami stared at her a second before nodding his head. She talked a lot, and very fast.

"Right," she threw the bolt on the floor and went for another one. This one was a black satin, but she said nothing and threw it on top of the red velvet. Then she ran to the other side of the room, crouched down, and pulled a bolt of a deep red silk. "This'll match your eyes," she said, running back over to Yami and holding the cloth near his head. "Pretty. This one will probably be shirts, Sir Seto likes silk shirts. Oh," she exclaimed and ran to the end of the shelving, "can't forget cotton either, cotton's nice and durable." Yami was getting dizzy following her around so he turned to the wall of fabrics, deciding that he should get to pick out his own fabric too.

Yami spied one he liked. "What's that fabric?" He asked, pointing to a black bolt of matte-looking fabric at the very top of the stack.

"Hmm?" The seamstress followed Yami's finger and saw the same thing he was looking at. "Oh, that's leather, we use it to make riding pants, do you want some?" She asked confused.

"What would I use them for?"

"They protect your legs when you're riding a horse."

"Oh, no, I don't need that," he said disappointed. He liked the look of the leather.

"I guess we could make up some regular pants out of that... it's a little unusual, but I could make it work."

Yami smiled at her.

They spent hours searching for all the material she needed, and when it was over, Seto paid and they left. Yami was thoroughly pleased with the wide variety they had picked, positive that he would get some very nice clothing out of it.

The sun was just beginning it's descent as Seto and Yami reached the tethered horse. The marketplace was almost empty, the venders were packing up to go home and the buyers were walking along with their purchases. Little children were running around together, playing in the street and scattering when their parents called out to them. Yami smiled at them, but felt a twinge of jealousy because he had never gotten to do that sort of stuff.

Yami mounted the horse when Seto untethered it, and slouched in the saddle. He was starting to feel tired after being part of so much excitement that afternoon. He barely registered Seto climbing up on the horse and seating himself behind Yami, kicking the horse into action. The moment Yami's eyes closed he felt that he could not open them again, and instead of fighting with it, he gave into sleep, slouched over the head of the great horse.

Seto blankly looked ahead, not really tired, but not fully awake either. It seemed like the road was on a continuous loop and they were just going around in circles. Then Seto felt Yami lean against his chest, and the loop stopped. He looked down at Yami, who was obviously asleep, and smiled. His father had made the perfect choice, even though he wasn't trying, and a very small part of Seto thanked him immensely.

Yami shifted in his sleep and rolled his head to one side. Seto looked at the exposed part of Yami's neck and thought to himself. If Yami woke up, Seto would probably lose all the trust he had built up, but he couldn't resist. He leaned over Yami and placed a feather-light kiss on his neck, smelling the soap from the day before. Satisfied for the time being, Seto sat up straight again and continued his way home.

A/N: I've hit the proverbial brick wall with the plot for this one, I have a scene written in my head that's about a couple of scenes from when this one ended, so I need a little bit of filler. I'll think about it nonstop though, because I'm starting to enjoy where this is going. And, I put the very last scene in there for my beta; it's not really Yami getting close to Seto, because Yami's asleep. Haha! Loophole.

Well, not to promote my own work or anything (smile), but while I'm thinking up the next chapter for this one you could go read my newest Seto/Yami fic, Enchanting Melody. It's a story about a record label (owned by Seto) that signs on a new band (led by Yami, some other characters from YGO are also part of the band). I like it more than I like this one, or, maybe just about the same. Yeah, so there that is.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: AND I HAVE FULFILLED MY PROMISE! Here's the third and final chapter in my have-to-get-three-chapters-for-my-YGO-fics-posted promise. Wow, it's been a really long time since I've posted on this fic, partially because I've had major WRITER'S BLOCK, and partially because I've just been procrastinating. I had fun typing this, mainly because for the majority of it I had acrylic paint all over my fingers, it's very interesting have a polymer-based paint covering your hands when you type. Like a skin-tight plastic glove. (Just in case anyone wanted to know, I also half-finished my painting for art class, I'm just on a roll with completing things.) Oh, yeah, and the reason I had paint all over my fingers is not because I'm a messy painter (well, that might be true) but because I have given up the brush and switched to fingers! Brushes don't like me and I don't like them.

Anywho...like anyone actually wants to know about my painting technique... I sure hope people didn't get too put off by the fact that I haven't posted for four months and people still read this. It's not terribly good, but it's something. Still, though, I'm finding it hard to stick in character and still have Kaiba be not a bastard 'cause he needs to gain Yami's trust. Ew, and also trying to keep Yami noble while still making him act like he has had a rough, oppressive life. I hope I'm doing okay...but I'll understand if you say it's OOC.

I'm pretty sure that's all I have to say...not that it wasn't a lot... Thanks everyone who will read this for sticking with it.

Disclaimer: I've written too many of the these over the last week.

**Chapter Four:**

Yami sat at the large desk, head drooped over, his face a perfect mold of concentration. His hand was starting to hurt from being in a foreign position for the whole day and he could hardly see due to the setting sun, but he didn't want to stop. He was fascinated by the black squiggly lines that people could recognize as letters, and more complexly, words. He was starting to recognize them too.

A day or two after the outing, Seto had gotten a note from someone, and this was how he learned Yami couldn't read. It wasn't like Yami should be able to read, he wouldn't need it in his line of work, but Seto still insisted that Yami learn how to read and write. And the day after that, Seto entered his room and presented a red, leather-bound journal for Yami. Yami looked at the book and then up at Seto.

"It's beautiful," Yami said, taking the book from Seto. He examined it thoroughly, opening it up and brushing his fingertips along the rough paper and feeling the smooth cover.

"You can practice writing in that," Seto said.

"Am I really going to learn how to read and write?" He asked. Why would anyone want to teach a slave to read and write?

"Yes," Seto replied, sitting down on the couch. "And we're going to start right now."

Seto was surprised by the amount Yami already knew. He could list the letters of the alphabet, write out some of them, especially that of his name, and he was eager to learn. This combination made for a very quick study, and by the end of the day, Yami could write out simple words and recognize even more than he could write.

Seto leaned back on the couch. "That's enough," he said. "I leave early tomorrow, but I want you to write in that journal every day that I'm gone, and if you get stuck on a word, just sound it out."

So writing gave him something to do while Seto was out, that note obviously contained something that worried Seto to have him be gone for almost two weeks. Yami's letters were looking much better, he would pull books off of Seto's bookshelf and study the words, or more importantly, the particular shape of the singular letter.

That left Yami alone in his master's room, crouching over the desk and writing in his small, red journal. So far, he had nothing of importance to write about, mainly he would comment on the weather, maybe a strange dream he had. He rarely dreamed, so those entries were infrequent, but when he did, they were very boring. Most of the time he thought he was awake, ambling about in a large castle, with absolutely nothing on his mind. In times before, these dreams had been refreshing, a break from every day life, and now they were dreadful.

Yami looked up when he heard a soft knock on the door. In came a servant looking slightly uncomfortable. Yami and the servants had a tentative relationship since Seto had left, the servants knew that Yami was below them, but they couldn't treat him as such because he had the favor of their master as well. So they stepped lightly in his presence, but Yami could still sense a bit of a condescending behavior coming from them.

The servant looked down at the ground and stuttered. "Your clothes are here," she said quietly. Behind her, another servant came in with an arm load of clothing, and the impulse in Yami to help those of higher status than him kicked in. He suppressed it, watching the servant struggle to place the clothing on the couch.

When the servants exited the room, Yami ran over to the new clothes. Attached to a jacket was a note, and since Yami was getting more and more proficient at reading, he could make out that it was intended for Seto. He attempted to read it anyway, and could understand that these were just a few of the items Seto had paid for. That made Yami's insides flip as he searched through all the clothing already there, and thinking about how there could possibly be more.

Finally, he picked out a frilly, off-white shirt and black slacks, over which he donned a deep burgundy coat. These clothes fit perfectly, unlike all other forms of clothing he had worn in his life. Something in the note had also said that if there were any alterations needed, Seto should feel free to stop by and get it fixed, but Yami could tell already that the seamstress had done an excellent job on getting his size and proportions correct.

Yami yawned and looked around the room. The only light was that coming off of the candle he had been writing by, giving the shadows their own personalities. He walked over to the desk and picked up the candle, walking back over to the bed. He put the candle down on a small table next to the bed and took his coat off, placing it on the foot of the bed. Yami crawled into the bed and under a blanket, still wary of getting underneath all of the covers. The last two weeks of being alone had been the best two weeks of Yami's life, because the threat of everything he had ever worried about was close to nothing. Though, going on two weeks of being alone, Yami was getting uneasy about his master's return. He wasn't sure if anything would change in Seto's attitude toward Yami's duty, but in Yami's experience, it never hurt to be cautious.

* * *

Yami's eyes fluttered open as he felt a small portion of his body being warmed with sunlight. _When did I fall asleep? _He thought. Automatically, he turned around and looked at the rest of the bed to make sure he was alone. He relaxed when he saw it was empty. _One more day of freedom. _

He glanced over to the couch, wondering what he was going to wear, when something else caught his eye. It was a hand. Slowly and without making a sound, Yami got off of the bed and walked over toward the chair. As he neared the chair, two legs came into view, and he released the breath he was holding.

Yami put a hand on the sleeping figure's shoulder and lightly shook. The form stirred, but didn't wake up.

"Master," Yami said quietly, shaking a little harder.

Seto's blue eyes opened slowly. He looked confused as to where he was, and then turned this gaze upon Yami.

"What are you doing sleeping on the chair?" Yami asked.

Seto stiffly sat up further, grimacing at his sore back. "You were already asleep, and I thought against climbing into bed with you. Figured it would result in something I didn't want to deal with that late at night."

"So you slept in a chair? It's your bed, you should do anything you want," Yami said. He felt bad for having his master feel he should sleep in a chair, but was also touched by the thoughtfulness.

Seto shrugged and looked away. "Did you have any trouble when I was away?"

"I was pretty much left alone," Yami replied. "The servants don't like me that much."

"Good," Seto said.

"They must respect you, or fear you, to let me be," Yami said. Seto glanced back up at Yami's face, but returned to the wall in front of him.

"I have to go report on the situation to my father," he said, getting up. "I'll be back."

Before Seto could leave, Yami spoke up. "May I look around the grounds while you're gone?" In truth, Yami didn't want to do it without Seto there; he knew he was safe in the room, but couldn't be sure about on the outside.

"I don't care, do what you want," Seto said.

Yami waited until the door closed shut before he walked over to the bed and picked up his coat. He had wanted to look around for some time now and was excited about discovering more.

* * *

Yami had been arounda bitof the castle when he came up upon the stables. They were far larger than any of the similar ones he had seen in the past, and he guessed they must house a lot of horses.

He walked into the stables and confirmed his suspicions. There were many horses housed in neat rows, and many stable hands tending to them. A lot of the stable boys looked younger than Yami, as he walked past them rushing around with buckets and combs. Some of them were cleaning out the stable pens, some were washing the horses and cleaning out their hooves. For stables, they were remarkably clean, but with this many people looking after them, Yami didn't find it out of the ordinary. They were all so organized, knowing exactly what to do and when to do it. Like so many bees in a beehive.

Yami walked up the rows of pens, looking for one horse in particular. Most of the pens had horses in them, the colors ranging from a dark chestnut color to light cream. A few roans were threw in here or there, but the majority were in the brown range. This made it easier for Yami to find the particular horse he was looking for.

When he came upon the only black horse in the stable, it was only fitting that the stable was one of the cleanest, with a beautiful silver placard etched with "Spirit" on the side. Yami smiled as he spied the horse, it's snout hidden in a feeding bag. Yami could see the horse's attention shift from his food to this new visitor, but his kind face was more than enough to calm Yami.

Yami stuck a hand over the low door, gaining the complete attention of the horse. Spirit shifted over to Yami, rubbing his soft snout on Yami's hand. Yami began rubbing the horse up the nose and in between the ears, earning a light neigh. The horse's long, wavy bangs fell over his eyes, making him look like a kind old man. Yami enjoyed petting the horse, but gave it one final pat and went on his way. He had hardly covered half of the grounds, and still wanted to go through the woods.

Yami shivered as he left the barn, what with there being so much more activity in there making it warmer. The sun was just about as high in the sky as it would get, so Yami didn't have reason to believe it would get much warmer. He wrapped his arms around his torso to keep warmer and walked on.

The woods on the grounds weren't as dense as Yami would've guessed, light easily streamed through the branches to create a clear path through the underbrush. There was no beaten path, so Yami stepped lightly around small bushes and other various plant life, until he came to a small clearing with a stream running through it. The stream wasn't moving too fast, causing it to sound like many small whispers. Yami walked up to it and crouched down. In this part of the wood, the water wasn't very deep either, he could see the rocks lining the bottom. He dipped his fingertips in the water, but quickly retracted them feeling how cold it was. It occurred to him that winter was fast approaching, so everything was getting cooler.

Yami spotted a large rock on the side of the riverbank, and decided to sit down for a while. He wasn't tired, but the wind was blocked out by surrounding trees, so the sun had a chance to warm the air. It was peaceful to be alone in that spot, and with his new anti-restriction restrictions, he didn't have to worry about how long he was out.

Yami started out sitting on the rock, but slowly over time, he had moved to sitting on the sparsely grassed and pebble ground, with the rock as a backrest. He was so absorbed in watching the river sparkle and not thinking about anything that he didn't hear footsteps behind him.

"I thought you had gotten lost, and here you are, bathing in the sun," a deep voice said.

Yami's reverie was cut short as he twisted around to view Seto.

"Am I needed for something?" Yami said. He worried that he had failed somehow, in someway, and this dream-like existence would come crashing down around him. Every day he felt as if he was walking on eggshells.

"Not at all," Seto said, sitting down next to him on the rock. "I just got back to the room and saw you weren't there, so I decided to come look. I see you found the river, I was planning on taking you here when I had enough time."

"You don't have to do things for me," Yami said quietly. It was still disconcerting to be considered in anyone's actions, he doubted he would ever get used to it, and feared if that day would come, because this lifestyle was as transient as the water in the little river in front of them.

They sat together in silence, a few birds chirping around them and the stream continuing in it's endless whispering flow, until Yami decided to speak. "What was your excursion about?"

"Oh, that," Seto said. "It was just a little scuffle between some of the peasants. Their living conditions are getting worse, and they're taking it out on each other."

"Why are their living conditions getting worse?" Yami asked.

"Because we're taxing them too much, they can barely afford it, most of them have to forego food in order to keep their land," Seto said.

"Oh," Yami said, fingering the embroidery on his new jacket. A wave of guilt washed over him as he thought of all the times he went hungry, and now he was being clothed by the money that people gave in order not to lose their livelihood.

Seto waved his hand in the air. "But this is depressing, and I don't want to talk about it. How is your writing coming along?" Seto asked.

"Without a teacher it's been slow, but there's been progress," Yami said.

"Good," Seto said.

"Why do you want me to know these things? I don't need them," Yami said, drifting off in the end because he didn't want to bring up his status.

"Everyone should learn how to read and write, it is vital, just like speaking," Seto commented. He held his hand over his face and looked up into the sky. "It's getting late, we should start heading back inside." Seto stretched out his back, which was still stiff from sleeping in the chair, and stood up.

"Alright," Yami said, standing up as well. "And Master?"

The title once again sent a shiver up Seto's spine, but he didn't address it. "What?"

"I'm hungry."

A/N: If you've stuck with it for this long, it must've not sucked. Or if it did, you must be a masochist like me. Anyway, please review.


End file.
